Midnight Calling
by Shipperwolf
Summary: Sara has a fear that she must overcome, and a certain someone is there to help. MS NC17 content!


This strange fic popped into my head outta nowhere. And before you make a conclusion, be sure to read thoroughly. Hope all enjoy! --i dont own PB or it's characters.

love and hugs!--nik

* * *

It was a quiet and peaceful night. A night that nothing could disturb.

This was Sara Tancredi's only thought.

Until the bedroom door creaked open.

Her breathing turned shallow, and the quickened beat of her heart pounded loudly in her ears.

She knew it was him before he stepped into the faint light of the moon. Even so, goosebumps rose up on the skin of her arms upon seeing the suit.

White shirt, black tie, standard shoes.

The sight induced fear and anxiety.

It was threatening, deadly…

Strangely exciting.

He stood beside the bed for a few moments, gazing down at Sara and causing her to feel flushed and anxious.

His stare sent chills over her skin, and at the same time caused heat to pool into her abdomen.

"I told you I'd come for you tonight." Her breath caught at the sound of his voice breaking the thick silence. It's tone was deep, deeper than usual, and held a trace of lust on it's edges.

Rather than responding Sara remained quiet and still, offering a nod just to appease him.

Perhaps if she submitted early, he'd go easy.

Weight slowly sank down onto the bed beside her, and her visitor loomed over her bare body menacingly.

A sharp sting of something cold met the flesh of her temple.

He would have what he wanted tonight…and the gun would see to it.

"What do you want me to do?"

She had grown used to asking him that question, for oftentimes he had her satisfy certain urges, some of which were more erotic than others.

The warmth of his lips clashed with the chilling steel of the pistol as his mouth met her ear, brushing very slightly over the lobe.

"Just lay still…and don't fight it."

His words sent a tremble through her body, the fear threatening to pull her down into its void.

It was the fear she hated most.

It was the fear she was so desperately trying to overcome.

He worked skillfully with his free hand, fingering the brown locks of her hair and pushing her bangs back behind her ears. His mouth made its way up her cheek, kissing the spot on her temple where the gun made its home.

As the damp lips skimmed back down towards her own she willingly parted them, allowing access as not to make him force her.

His tongue delved instantly into the wet darkness, meeting hers and making even it submit to his authority.

His teeth nipped slightly, making small impressions on the insides of her cheeks and causing a stinging sensation in her mouth.

She ignored it, however. Whatever he wanted to do with her, she had no choice but to allow it.

He was in command tonight.

The metal against her head pressed into her skull as a constant reminder that it was there.

Her visitor's voice filled her ears.

"Clothes. Off. Now."

She obeyed instantly.

With only a t-shirt and panties to cover her skin, it took a mere 3 seconds to disrobe, but Sara knew that he meant both of them.

She loosened the tie.

Unbuttoned the shirt.

Slid the material down his arms while forcing the gun away for just a millisecond.

Removed the shoes.

Unbuttoned the pants.

Pulled down the boxers.

It was routine she knew fairly well now.

When all was done, she move back underneath his body, as he remained hovering above her. His deep, dark eyes scanned over her body, and then his own.

"Perfect. Now…you have my permission to gasp."

With those whispered words her ear tickled under the hot breath, but the sensation was replaced immediately by something altogether different.

And wonderful.

His tongue met her naval, venturing into it and across her stomach.

His arm, holding the pistol, stretched out to her head even as he worked.

She knew not to make a move to get away from it.

But she COULD move…she could writhe.

And writhe she did.

A moan escaped her unwilling lips and her hands moved to his head, skimming the more-or-less short haircut, guiding it farther down in insinuation.

She regretted the move quickly.

With a growl the tongue on her flesh became teeth, biting into her thigh.

The gun clicked.

Swiftly his head was above hers, and he glared in a way that threatened her existence.

"I gave you permission to use your mouth…not your hands. Do NOT attempt control again."

Sara nodded and muttered a small "yes" to satisfy him.

The tone of his voice, the slight hint of anger and overwhelming desire to control her, was frightening.

And oh so hot.

It flicked a switch and ignited a flame in her gut, and she could not help but bump up against him.

A sound of masculinity echoed in the darkness, and he returned her thrust.

His now stiff erection knocked on the doors of her sex.

"Sara. Let me in."

With a tender moan she consented and spread her thighs to allow him access.

His mouth worked against hers while he teased her farther down, preparing her for a fierce and forceful ride.

Her lips broke from his just long enough to plead with him,

"Please…"

He kissed her once more.

"You're asking for mercy from me?"

His member met her wetness.

"YES. Please…"

The dominating force was not without his own boundary of self-control.

He gave her what she wanted.

With a cry of satisfaction and just a small hint of forced pain, Sara's head flew back onto the pillow beneath it. The gun followed suit and put pressure against the pulse in her temple, moving back and forth to mimic the movements of their lower bodies.

Her would-be assassin groaned in his own right, giving in to his physical needs and pushing deeper into her walls until he hit a spot that had her screaming.

Sexual sadism….he loved it.

And apparently, so did she.

Sara met his thrusts in perfect rhythm.

He couldn't help but notice…and be impressed.

Nonetheless, he was still in charge.

And he would remind her of it.

The barrel of the gun move from her head, sliding across her cheek, and pressing into her lips.

He meant to show her domination.

But she took an upper hand on his lust.

Slick and hot, her tongue lashed out against the metal, running up and down the barrel, enticing visions that pushed it's holder over the edge.

The gun was tossed aside.

His mouth crashed into hers.

And he let himself go with complete abandonment.

Teeth grit, Sara moaned with her lover as they pushed deeper and further into their ecstasy, until there was nothing left but the peak.

She screamed against his teeth as they bit into her lip, and the two fell into the pleasured void of orgasm together, blissful in the midst of the darkness surrounding them.

The pistol rested forgotten on the floor beside Sara and Michael's bed.

Lifting his gaze to study it for just a moment, he chuckled into the neck of his love.

"You know it's not loaded…"

Sara gave his inky back a playful pop.

"Duh. You're too much of a smart-ass genius to press a loaded gun to my head, Michael."

He gave her a "you never know" look, and pulled slowly out her to fall onto his back against the sheets.

Pulling the woman against him, Michael buried his face her hair and inhaled.

"Is it getting easier?"

Sara knew what he was talking about, and it wasn't the rough sex.

"My nightmares about Kellerman are slowly but surely are turning into dreams about this. It was an interesting idea, helping me overcome my fear this way. We should do it again soon."

The lazy tone in her voice signaled that sleep was not far.

Michael pulled the blankets over their naked forms, and kissed the sweat-dampened brown hair that tickled his face.

"Sweet dreams, Sara."

'We'll do this again VERY soon…'


End file.
